Callously Wasted
by Hekate1308
Summary: Moriarty's reaction to Sherlock's survival. Post-Reichenbach. Part of the Sherlock Mini-Bang on tumblr.


**Author's note: This is part of the Sherlock Mini-Bang on tumblr; the prompt was that a character finds out Sherlock survived.**

**I wrote the fic, the haikus are the work of the lovely Mulberrytreelover.**

**We hope you enjoy. **

Who ever thought life as a spider could be so boring?

Well, I suppose I did, once, before Sherlock stumbled across my cases –

And what a case it was, dear old Jeff Hope. But let it be said that I keep my promises; his children have more than enough money, now – and people call me a psychopath...

Okay, I suppose that's because I kill people now and then when I'm really bored or because it's necessary, but still...

I got distracted again; that happens much too often now, now that Sherlock's gone –

I'm so bored. I mean, I won, I should still be triumphing, right? Beating Sherlock Holmes would be enough to triumph over for the rest of his life – for an ordinary man...

But I'm no ordinary man – even if he proved to be just that, in the end – how could he disappoint me so? Giving his life for his friends, not considering how dull London would be without him – he was selfish, that's what he was. I suppose that is what friends make you.

Anyway, now I'm here and I am bored. I figured the novelty of living under the radar, with dear Seb looking after my business, having beaten Sherlock, would suffice to make me content for a while. I was wrong, and that's not something I usually say –

I should have known he'd constantly call me. Ex-soldiers, I swear – they have not learned to think for themselves. Well, maybe John Watson did. If only he was here instead of Seb – but he mourns far too much for Sherlock – no, I'd never get him to join my little business. A shame, really. I'd like a somewhat-less-ordinary pet for once –

"Hello? What now, Seb? So another drug ring stopped operating. Call me if there's something important, only if there's something important, or I swear, I'll skin you –"

I could perhaps start rebuilding the parts of the web that have gone out of business, lately, but I don't see the point – just the same things over and over again – I really wish Sherlock had been more of a challenge; but he was too human, on the side of the angels, and now I have no one.

Maybe Mycroft? No, that would never do. He's boring. He thinks too much. He doesn't dash off, like Sherlock did, because there's a challenge.

Really, a mixture of them would be perfect; Sherlock's brain and Mycroft's heart.

The other way round, we'd have a melting Ice Man, and that would just be a tragedy, and not an amusing one.

Speaking of Big Brother, though, it gets me thinking –

He must have known I'd go after Sherlock, they best distraction I'd ever seen –

Did he want it, perhaps? Did he want his little brother out of the way?

But that doesn't lead to anything – even if being responsible for his brother's death should bother him, which I'm not sure it does, I always understood Mycroft better than Sherlock, in a way, God, why did London's little helper have to have such a soft heart?

It would all be so infinitely more amusing if he'd cheated Death, but not even Sherlock Holmes could do that without me noticing –

**callously wasted**

**my beautiful thrill my life**

**gone along with yours**

* * *

Glorious day that has such surprises in it!

Sherlock is alive! I feel like my birthday came early – oh that is wonderful, absolutely wonderful, I couldn't have planned it better myself –

Of course, now that he has given me this wonderful surprise, I have to do the same.

I'll have to sacrifice Seb, but he's more annoying than anything else these days, anyway – he's like a pet, I swear, and not an amusing one, like Doctor Watson used to be –

Will be. Again. My partner-in-game is back. Oh, this is wonderful, wonderful!

How great I never yielded to temptation and returned; how good no one knows I am alive – well, aside from Seb, and he'd never tell –

Sherlock's alive, and he'll be so pleased. I know he must have been bored too, without my cases –

Of course it was him, taking care of my web. I should have seen it sooner. But I underestimated him, didn't think he was capable of surviving, oh Sherlock, I'm sorry, I never should have, but now you are back, and we can have fun again –

Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while, this time. Well, our while, really; the last time neither of us ended up happy, I guess.

Poor Sherlock. Doing the same thing over and over for three years –

I succeeded, though. No one can be this bored out of his mind for such a period of time without growing a little depressed. And John Watson has a girlfriend now, so he won't take him back in, and everyone else has moved on –

See? I do keep my promises, I burned the heart out of him, alright.

But first things first. Better call Seb –

Oh, he's calling me. So finally his spies noticed too. I should have got rid of him sooner or later anyway; he just doesn't have what it needs to run a web.

"Yes? Seb? He is? Well, better shoot him then, don't you think? What did I buy you the airgun for? Now, Seb, don't be nervous. Nervous bores me, don't you remember? Well, wait until he's home –"

Don't act like it was my fault that you shot Ronald Adair, now. I left you to do what you wanted, remember? Maybe you should have thought of another way, instead of just shooting him in a way that made it obvious who –

Now, now, Seb, don't. I don't like people apologizing. It's so dull. Just kill him. Goodbye, Seb.

Goodbye, indeed. It was about time. Why can't I find someone as ordinary interesting as John Watson? Sherlock Holmes really has all the luck –

As demonstrated by his survival.

Although, really, it's my luck too. I was so bored...

Well, that's over now. Sherlock will be so glad. What is he so fond of saying again?

Oh yes. The Game Is On.

**cutting through my web**

**sugarcoated razorblade**

**you taste sweet only**

* * *

I'm starting to feel a little left out.

Why doesn't he call? It's been three weeks since Seb was captured and subsequently killed in his closed cell, with no clues whatsoever, and I was even nice enough to send him a text –

Here I am, and I've given him a whole new puzzle to solve, how I did and who I had it do, and he doesn't react? That's just rude.

And why are he and John Watson running around together again? If things continue like this, his girlfriend will leave him, and he'll be a full part of the game once more –

It's not difficult to see where the rumours came from, really. How John ever thought he had a right to be upset about them is beyond me...

And even that Inspector and the Ice Man himself are glad that Sherlock is back. And he – he looks so – on the pictures – is he thankful? To be in the company of the British Government? Who he couldn't stand before? What is it with this man and emotions? Just when I think I have figured everything out in regards to him –

Oh, well, it wouldn't matter if he would just answer my text.

I mean, what does he want me to do? Kill people at random?

That might not be such a bad idea, actually. At least it would force him to answer.

I never took Sherlock to be so impolite. I'm disappointed, actually.

And I was so happy just a few weeks ago. Shouldn't he be happy that I'm alive? He ought to, after all the distraction I've provided for him. His mind would have stagnated a long time ago, if it wasn't for me. Is a little thankfulness too much to ask?

One can't have everything, I suppose. I'll be patient. For – let me think – for two more days. Then I'll start doing what I have to do. It's not like I am unoccupied. Without Seb, I have to run my web again. It's good he is gone; really, he left it in an awful state. My employees weren't even really afraid of him –

I have to teach them to be afraid of me; most of them are new, didn't know my old web. Why Seb considered it a good idea to exchange most if my most-trusted informants, I have no idea. I suppose in the end, he didn't have what it took to run my little web. Junkies and people desperate for money are always the best people to go to, as long as they don't know anything about you; but no, he had to go and call in his old soldier friends and show his face on several occasions, and now I have to clean up the mess.

At least I'm not bored too much while waiting for an answer –

But he should answer. Didn't Big Brother teach him anything? When the enemy makes an offer, you consider it. Or at the very least act like you consider it. Then again, they never like each other much, did they – otherwise Mycroft wouldn't have let me walk...

I might have to call Mycroft, if Sherlock continues to refuse to cooperate. He's the older brother, he's responsible for what the younger Holmes does. He will force him to make contact if I indicate I might do something that could harm the smooth running of the country...

I don't want to resort to Big Brother, though. I want Sherlock to text me back. Is that too much to ask? I think not.

Oh, what is that? A text?

The pool at midnight? Oh, Sherlock. Always so sentimental.

**my pet all yours in**

**bloody ribbons didn't your mum**

**teach you to say thanks?**

* * *

He didn't bring Doctor Watson with him, this time. I can tell because he's too relaxed – he was always too worried when the little soldier was near.

We are alone, just like we were always meant to be. The World's only consulting detective and the World's only consulting criminal playing their games.

"Sherlock! You didn't really think I'd kill myself, did you?"

"I have to admit that I rather hoped it to be true".

"Now, don't be a spoilsport. You know you are glad I am here. Who else should make things interesting?"

"I have found that "interesting" doesn't always entail needlessly complicated or criminal."

"You wound me, Sherlock. We had our good times, don't you remember?"

"How you refer to those times, Moriarty, I have no control over, but I do remember them".

He looks a little bit sad – must be that his friends are dragging him down once more. Oh well – I'll fix that. This time, I'll just kill them for real, and we'll be able to play our games... I expected a different welcome. How excited I was all these years ago when he first came to my notice, giddy even, and now all I get is a contemptuous look? I'll have to change that.

"You have to admit that you weren't bored, not even when you were gone."

"No, I wasn't."

While does he still look so – sad almost? I gave him the best present he'd ever received; three years without stagnation. Three years in which he could do what he wanted, when he wanted. And now...

"You have changed. There was a time you wanted to meet me desperately. Just think of our first meeting."

"I did. That's why we're here."

"Oh? That's a nice thought."

"I have something to tell you."

"The Browning again, Sherlock? Don't bore me. You know how I get when I am bored."

"I know. That's what I wanted to tell you."

"What?"

He's not actually considering threatening me with the gun, is he? We already had that. I came here because I wanted a distraction, not a replay.

He's actually pointing it at me. I am disappointed, I have to admit. I can only hope that he has something else up his sleeve –

"I don't play games anymore."

Now that is definitely a sur –

**close the circle start**

**anew no distractions now**

**only you and m-**


End file.
